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A review by millennial_dandy
The Night House by Jo Nesbø
3.0
'The Night House' is, in a phrase, 'Goosebumps' for adults. Or, well...not adults exactly...It's...'Goosebumps' for adults who liked 'Goosebumps' and want to feel like they get to read one for the first time again and want it to feel exactly the same, and yet be better written because let's face it, simple sentences and chapters that are seven pages long and peppered with exclamation points and italicized sound effects doesn't feel as good as it did when you were ten, but you also don't want something that's too adult because then it wouldn't be 'Goosebumps.'
That's who 'The Night House' is for.
There's the same dreamlike lack of realism to 'The Night House' as there was to 'Goosebumps.' The most insane things happen, yet they're grounded enough in reality that you have no choice but to go along with them. A prime example (and this gives nothing away because it's essentially the first thing that happens) is that the protagonist's friend gets eaten by a telephone. This is so bizarre and strange, and yet Nesbø plays it just as straight as R.L. Stine. And since this is 'Goosebumps' aged up just a tad, the description of this happening gets to be a little bit grosser, and little bit more gruesome. And that's definitely where it shines: the horror aged up just enough to hit the same way the horror in 'Goosebumps' hit when you were a tween staying up late to finish just one more chapter.
But that's also the weakness of 'The Night House' too. Because at the end of the day, it's not 'Goosebumps' and you're not eleven anymore, but because it's trying to be a book for eleven-year-olds for thirty year-olds it feels...weird.
There are a few little twists and turns in 'The Night House' that, not to beat a dead horse, but really feel like 'Goosebumps.' And then there are a few twists and turns that feel more like 'Fear Street.' And let's be honest, 'Goosebumps' was always better because a 'Goosebumps' book was allowed to become untethered from reality in a way that 'Fear Street' never could. The supernatural in 'Fear Street' had to be relegated to dreams or psychosis or paranoia (I guess because to R.L. Stine writing a 'horror' series for teens meant no more actual monsters or evil puppets or goo that grows out of control). But to its credit, at least this was a clean break with no deviation. If you're reading 'Goosebumps' you're getting monsters and magic. If you're reading 'Fear Street' you're getting bad humans doing bad things but there will probably be a fantastical dream sequence that gets turned into the cover art.
'The Night House' tries to have it both ways in a 'choose your own adventure' sort of way, and I did not care for that. I wanted 'YA Goosebumps', not a re-tread of its inferior older cousin.
Nevertheless, because of how it's constructed, you do at least get to choose which of those doors you want to open in the end.
It's not bad, it has an excellent cover, it's a fun little nostalgia romp for the most part. You probably won't remember anything about it other than the scene of that lad getting eaten by the telephone, but that is something.
That's who 'The Night House' is for.
There's the same dreamlike lack of realism to 'The Night House' as there was to 'Goosebumps.' The most insane things happen, yet they're grounded enough in reality that you have no choice but to go along with them. A prime example (and this gives nothing away because it's essentially the first thing that happens) is that the protagonist's friend gets eaten by a telephone. This is so bizarre and strange, and yet Nesbø plays it just as straight as R.L. Stine. And since this is 'Goosebumps' aged up just a tad, the description of this happening gets to be a little bit grosser, and little bit more gruesome. And that's definitely where it shines: the horror aged up just enough to hit the same way the horror in 'Goosebumps' hit when you were a tween staying up late to finish just one more chapter.
But that's also the weakness of 'The Night House' too. Because at the end of the day, it's not 'Goosebumps' and you're not eleven anymore, but because it's trying to be a book for eleven-year-olds for thirty year-olds it feels...weird.
There are a few little twists and turns in 'The Night House' that, not to beat a dead horse, but really feel like 'Goosebumps.' And then there are a few twists and turns that feel more like 'Fear Street.' And let's be honest, 'Goosebumps' was always better because a 'Goosebumps' book was allowed to become untethered from reality in a way that 'Fear Street' never could. The supernatural in 'Fear Street' had to be relegated to dreams or psychosis or paranoia (I guess because to R.L. Stine writing a 'horror' series for teens meant no more actual monsters or evil puppets or goo that grows out of control). But to its credit, at least this was a clean break with no deviation. If you're reading 'Goosebumps' you're getting monsters and magic. If you're reading 'Fear Street' you're getting bad humans doing bad things but there will probably be a fantastical dream sequence that gets turned into the cover art.
'The Night House' tries to have it both ways in a 'choose your own adventure' sort of way, and I did not care for that. I wanted 'YA Goosebumps', not a re-tread of its inferior older cousin.
Nevertheless, because of how it's constructed, you do at least get to choose which of those doors you want to open in the end.
It's not bad, it has an excellent cover, it's a fun little nostalgia romp for the most part. You probably won't remember anything about it other than the scene of that lad getting eaten by the telephone, but that is something.